So, Pregnancy Is Inevitable Now?

DO NOT WANT.

I’m pretty afraid of pregnancy.  I think a majority of sexually active women in their twenties are also quite afraid of babies appearing inside their bodies.  Pregnancy is a constant threat weighing on us 75-90% of the time.  The other 10-25% of the time we have cramps, so we’re pretty sure we are not pregnant in those moments.  Those are good moments.  Those are moments that remind me of freedom, that ring of choice and birth control, and that remind that I am NOT ready to be a parent.  I’m far too creeped out by pregnancy.  I mean, my god!  Think about it.  Pregnancy is terrifying and a constant threat.  It takes you over.  It wins.  It is very, very scary.

Why is pregnancy so scary?

Oh, I don’t know… Maybe because a parasite grows inside of you?  Maybe because it makes your boobs go crazy?  Maybe because it’s the thing all women fear before some crazy switch goes off in their head?  Maybe because your body will never be the same?  Maybe because if you have a baby, you ALWAYS have it?  Pregnancy is imprisonment, and it’s a lifetime sentence.  Did I mention the stuff it can do to your body?

THERE ARE EIGHT BABIES IN THERE! EIGHT!

You might be wondering what prompted such a vile spew of anti-pregnancy thoughts, the answer is fear.  Pregnancy is not inevitable for me.  I believe in birth control and I know how to use.  It’s a good thing, y’all.

Lately, a lot of people (mostly my mother and my boyfriend’s friends) have been really chatting me up about babies. The message seems to be: “Pregnancy is inevitable.” I mean, I get what they’re saying. Maybe I will eventually decide to do that to myself or to let someone do that to me.  They all seem to think that for me not to know or for me to deny wanting children is blasphemous.  It’s not.  Some women don’t have children.  Some women don’t want children.  Some women don’t want to make their own.  Maybe I just don’t know.  I do know that I want to avoid this question.

Don’t ask.  Don’t wish babies on me.  That’s weird.

I know that a lot of women talk about the magic of childbirth, but I think many women have also experienced/are currently experiencing life as someone who is deeply and violently frightened of pregnancy and children. I’m tired of people telling me that I have to have kids. I don’t know what the hell I want. I’m 23. Back off.

Why is pregnancy being discussed as an inevitability?  Or at least, why is it being discussed as a fast-approaching, oncoming train?

No.

THIS IS WHAT IT DOES TO YOUR BODY. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS. OH MY GOD.

Basically, babies come from explosions in women’s bodies.  They are scary.  They shoot out of places and things go boom.  Then they cry a lot.  They cry so much.  There is so much stuff happening.  I get that babies are cute and stuff, but wowzers.  No thank you.

The babies get inside of you and then they try to get out of you.

There is just so much scary stuff about this. For example, THERE IS A HUMAN TRYING TO ESCAPE FROM THIS WOMAN’S STOMACH.

Sometimes I have dreams about babies happening, and I wake up in cold sweat.  I don’t wake up smiling and laughing and clapping my hands.  I wake up terrified.  Sometimes I have dreams about drinking and running and being awesome and single and not having babies and keeping my body the same shape.  Those are times when I wake up comforted and happy and joyous and giggly.  Good stuff.

Sometimes I think about my life in ten years.  When I think about that life including kids, it feels messy and sloppy and loud.  When I think about it without kids, it feels messy and sloppy and loud… Wait.  I guess those are the same.

Sometimes I imagine what would happen if I got preggers right now, and while it is better than a teenager getting preggers, it’s still not my favorite idea.

Also, this:

There are just so many things that can happen.  So many babies can happen.  So. Many. Babies.

Babysitters Are Important, Y’all.

Look, I get that having kids complicates your life, and that you will want to bring your kids with you to restaurants, stores, events, libraries, parties, and whatever else there is.  I get it, y’all.  However, as you continue to go through life with your child and/or children, remember that your crying baby will ruin everyone else’s dinner, shopping experience, party, study session, etc.  Your crying baby, your terrible two-year-old, your eight-year-old diva, your asshole-of-a-teenager are all part of the reason I cannot walk into a Target without getting a headache.

While I was out and about doing my Christmas shopping, I heard many a mother threaten their children with, “If you don’t do this, or stop that, Santa won’t bring you any gifts.”  First of all, that’s not sounding like great parenting.  Secondly, maybe you shouldn’t bring your four-year-old to Target two days before Christmas while it’s packed with other stressed out moms and dads.  That child is clearly going to melt down.  You are going to melt down.  Everyone else is going to be uncomfortable, and they will all leave with headaches.  Did you really need wrapping paper that badly?

Sometimes, you need to leave the kids at home.  Sometimes, you need a babysitter, a dedicated sister, a really amazing friend, or a grandparent to steal your child for a few precious moments.  You can also order things online.  Free shipping!  No lines!  No crying babies!

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re wondering why I don’t just stay home and avoid all the crying babies.  You’re thinking that I sound like an ass because I’m not considering that people can’t afford babysitters, and don’t always have support systems of people who can watch their kids.  There are a lot of single parents, and people who just didn’t have a choice of whether or not their kids would accompany them on their various trips.  I also understand that, but this website is devoted to rants, and this is a rant.  Obviously, I am not advocating for a kid-free world; I just want to go to Target without getting a headache because a three-year-old is mad about not getting candy.  I want to go out to lunch without fearing that someone’s child will throw knives around the room.  I want to read in a library without hearing anyone’s family drama.

Babysitters are amazing gifts from the Flying Spaghetti Monster and/or god.  Hire them.

Your “Baby Daddy” Is a Minor. Um…

Okay, Mariah Yeater, age 20, you had a baby three months ago.  I’ll give you that.  When you had that poor baby, you decided to name him Tryston?  That’s strike one.  You also went to a Justin Bieber concert at 19?  Strike two.  Strike three is that you are now claiming that when you went to that concert, you got knocked up by Justin Bieber, which means you had sex with Justin Bieber when you were 19, and he was 16…  THAT MEANS HE WAS A CHILD.  That means, your obviously bogus claim that a superstar knocked you up in a backstage bathroom also means you are claiming that you had sex with a child.

You were an adult – age 19.

He was a minor – age 16.

You are gross.

Any time a chick claims some famous dude is her baby daddy, I feel pretty skeptical.  The fact that this chick is claiming that a minor/superstar is her baby daddy makes me really angry.  I’m not a huge Bieber fan; I find him a little annoying.  However, the kid is talented and he seems like a nice boy.

This whole thing is crazy.  I really think this chick is lying.  If she’s not, it will break the heart of hundreds of thousands of girls.  If she’s lying, (which she is) then she’s pretty much screwing her kid forever.  That kid’s life will always be tarnished with the trashiness and desperation of his mother.

GROSS.

 

 

Baby Talk (is awful)

 

While I am goo-goo for Gaga, I’m pretty hardset against goo-goo and ga-ga baby talk.  You’re an adult.  Speak like an adult.  Don’t call your significant other “Booboo” or “My Wittle Wuv Monkey,” or anything remotely like that in public; it’s gross.  I don’t even think it’s okay for adults to use pet names in public for the most part.  Calling someone “Honey,” or “Dear,” or some tame name like those is fine because it’s not gross, it doesn’t feel dirty or drippy with sweetness.  Calling someone “Baby” or “Babe” or “Boo” or “Monkey” or whatever the hell you call them in bed is unacceptable.  Ask yourself: “Have I used this name while screwing?”  If the answer is yes, the name is private only.  If the answer is no, you can proceed with caution.  Think about it, in what situation can you imagine someone saying, “Oh yeah!  Go faster, honey!” in the bedroom.  Doesn’t that seem unlikely?
 
As a self-respecting adult, you shouldn’t speak a fake baby.  It makes you look stupid, crazy and really annoying.  Also, real babies don’t talk like that.  If you have a child, maybe you should try speaking to that child in your real voice while using real words.  Hearing actual means of communication will teach the child how to properly speak.  Would you want your children to actually speak in the way you seem to like to speak to them?  Baby talk is stupid.

Also, do you not know grammar?  Using improper grammar isn’t adorable.  It’s not even okay.  It’s just stupid.  Ugh…

 
I’m not against the occasional coochie-coo talk to actual babies; it’s cute, and they’re cute.  I get it.  I think it is good to tell children that they are cute and wonderful.  I do it too.  However, give kids some credit.  They can understand normal words.  They will appreciate being spoken to in normal ways.  Children are smarter than you realize.  Plus, they say awesome things.  Let the kids be cute and awesome.  Accept the fact that you are older and a little less awesome.